


no natural comparison

by Saraste



Series: KINKTOBER 2020 [20]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Adventures of Yennefer's magical cock, Dom/sub, Kinktober, Multi, Pegging, Polyamory, Safe Sane and Consensual, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Jaskier finds himself, once again, blindfolded and lovingly pegged by Yennefer as Geralt holds him in place. There is no place where he'd rather be.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: KINKTOBER 2020 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949290
Comments: 1
Kudos: 86





	no natural comparison

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 20. temperature play of KINKTOBER 2020.

Blindfolded, he felt it so much more intensely, more viscerally, all his focus on the shift between cool and warm that had no natural comparison, the temperatures differing wildly according to Yen’s whim.

If he had been anywhere but at the receiving end of that shift, he might have marvelled Yen’s control, even if the cock was strapped on her person and she got no direct pleasure from fucking Jaskier with it.

But as he was stretched around it, her cock, he could think of nothing else but the way it felt inside him.

He squirmed in Geralt’s hold, hands bound behind his back, legs held open for her with those strong familiar arms. If it had been anyone but Geralt he would have had his ear full of words telling him how good he looked, how well he took it, but their Witcher was a man of few words and Jaskier  _ knew _ that he wasn’t unaffected, could feel his arousal digging into his back, wondering briefly if Geralt could get off on just that, the slide of Jaskier’s body against his as Yennefer’s thrusts moved him.

Maybe it was really could he couldn’t see the devious, hungry look Yen undoubtedly had on her face.

But then her cock was cool again and then warm and his toes curled and he wailed, his body squirming, closer or away, he couldn’t tell. The effect was unexpected, if not entirely unpleasant, never too cold or too warm, if always shifting. ‘Please… I… I… can’t…’ Tears welled up in his eyes and his balls ached to come, but loops of silk-ribbon around the base of his cock and his balls held him back, kept him on the brink as Yen’s magical cock drove him crazy.

Geralt kissed him behind one ear and Jaskier’s own breathing was a ragged cacophony in his ears, and if he focused on that little kiss, on Geralt, he could maybe endure. He let his head drop to the side in invitation and Geralt needed no more extra incentive, starting to work a love-bite – or rather a claiming-mark – onto the side of his neck. It made pleasure jolt through him, but still, he was denied.

Yet he didn’t plead, but focused and let himself be lost in the warmth of Geralt’s body behind him and the coolness and warmth of Yennefer inside of him, filling, stretching and thrusting. Giving him exactly what he’d asked for.

He would be denied until they were finished with him and deemed him worthy of coming and it would be earth-shatteringly glorious when he did. It was liberating to have his pleasure in another’s capable hands. He trusted Yennefer and Geralt implicitly to not leave him unsated. Although, for a part of him, even what there was now – him between the two of them – it would be more than enough, to feel so  _ coveted _ , his needs so lovingly cared for, even if his climax was a faraway  _ later _ .

For now, he had Geralt's arms, the warmth of his body against his back, his shifting and grunts of pleasure, and Yennefer, with her warm and cool thrusts and her voice, laughing and delighted, telling him how good he was, making him believe it.

Even when he wasn’t a good man, really.

She sounded like she’d asked before when he finally registered his words. Her body was flush against his, her breasts pressing against his chest and he was squashed between their bodies and her cock was shifting inside of him in interesting ways and he was… couldn’t…. 

‘...again,’ he swallowed, clawing for coherency as she pulsed warm and cool inside of him in the most maddening way. Quite deliberately, of course.

‘I asked, what can’t you?’ She repeated.

He moaned as she wiggled just the tiniest bit. ‘Too. Much.’

‘You need to stop?’ she asked, hand on his cheek, thumb stroking, still within him, her cock settled to skin temperature. 

He knew that if he said yes then she would. He badly wanted to say yes, and yet… He felt too good to stop, wasn’t at his limit. Loved her that she asked. ‘No.’ was ragged, punched out,  _ delighted _ .

She kissed him, deep and hungry, yet sweet. ‘Good boy.’

And then she started moving again, shifting from cool to warm in a breath, and he didn’t think a single coherent thought for a long time.

*

It was Geralt, a smiling, well-sated Geralt, who gently washed him clean and gave him the softest small kisses of affirmation and praise, and Yennefer who wrapped him in a soft towel and dried him off, after, once he’d been well-fuck and finally climaxed so hard he had blacked out. Then they tucked him into bed between them and all was well.

No.

_ Perfect. _

With that thought, he drifted off to sleep, warm and sated and safe, knowing that he was loved.


End file.
